


Reaction Shots

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [69]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prejudice Against Monsters (Undertale), Prejudice by Police Officers, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, kustard - Freeform, mentions of past violence, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-04-19 18:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19138519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Still in the aftermath of the events of 'Any Other Tuesday'.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This begins directly after after 'Perspective' and we'll be seeing a few different POV's. But let's be boring and start with Edge.

* * *

_Edge_

* * *

When they pulled into the circle drive at the Ebott General, Antwan was standing outside the doors, waiting. Even from a distance, he seemed tired. Shoulders slumped, his suit was rumpled, and there was still blood on the shirt he was wearing, dried to deep maroon. 

Red brought the car to an easy stop, then hooked a thumb at the door. “out, honey bun, we’ve got places to be and antwan needs your seat.”

“yeah, yeah,” Stretch grumbled, then he hesitated. “go easy on him, you shit, antwan’s had a worse day than any of us.”

“i’ll be sweet as his gramma,” Red snorted, “out.”

A worse day, yes. Edge couldn’t imagine how difficult this was for him, wasn’t sure he’d be able to leave the hospital if Stretch were the one injured inside. 

It was difficult enough to let Stretch go now. Necessary, Edge knew, they couldn’t let this be until morning, and while Red was right that Jeff would appreciate a familiar face, Edge also didn’t want Stretch within twenty yards of any representative of the Ebott police. He’d be safer here than even at the Embassy, for now. 

“Be good,” Edge whispered to him, reluctantly loosening his hold and smiling faintly as Stretch scoffed. 

“i’m plenty good. now all you have to do is warn the rest of the world to do the same.”

A quick kiss then he slid across the seat and out the door. Stretch paused to speak to Antwan, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder and whatever he said made Antwan nod, roping Stretch into a tight, one-armed hug. 

That alone spoke of his mindset; Antwan was usually scrupulously careful to respect Edge’s rather unreasonable concerns about Humans touching Stretch. 

Stretch hugged him back, pressing a smacking kiss to the top of Antwan’s head and easily dodged his half-hearted swat. He did pause when Antwan asked him something, nodding and pulling something from his pocket to hand over. Only then did he go inside, the automatic doors closing behind him. Antwan climbed into the car, sitting in the passenger seat. 

“Hey, guys,” he said tiredly. He rubbed his face with one hand, digging a knuckle between his eyes as if a headache lingered there. 

“How is he?” Edge asked without preamble as Red pulled away from the curb, turning towards the Embassy. 

“He’ll be okay.” Antwan rolled down the window a little and reached into his pocket. A half-empty pack of cigarettes and Stretch’s lighter, Edge saw, and Antwan shook one out, lighting it with a cough. “The Human docs were saying he was fucking lucky, a million to one shot that they didn’t hit anything vital. He’s in a room on the Monster side now, which I feel a lot better about after hearing what happened with the cops. Not doing so good on the whole serve and protect shit, are they.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and he took a hard drag on his cigarette, speaking again in puffs of smoke. “But he’ll be okay now. He would not have been okay if Stretch hadn’t helped him.” Antwan looked out the window, his voice hushed, “I didn’t even know you guys could do that.”

“eh, not many of us can,” Red said dismissively. Certainly no one but Edge would see the tension in his shoulders. They both trusted Antwan, or as much as Red could trust any Human. It was still a touchy issue. “the honey bun is sort of a special class.”

“Yeah, well, look,” Antwan flicked the butt out the window before rolling it up, something Stretch would have had a fit over, and turned to look at them. His gaze was fierce, “You guys are my best friends, you both know that. But I owe you one, all right? Stretch doesn’t get it, but I know you do, you know what it’s like to owe a brother something.”

“I do,” Edge said quietly. He met the ferocity of Antwan’s gaze without question. He understood all too well. 

“Okay,” Antwan took a deep breath and as he let it out, his expression changed. Despite his blood-spattered clothes, he looked the same as he did when he strode into a courtroom, filled with sharp determination. “So, let’s go deal with these fuckers and then we can get back to our guys. Edge, do you have a suit in your office?”

“I do.”

“Good, wash up and get changed. You get to be the Monster who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I stay like this, I’m the injured party whose boyfriend is still in the hospital. And Red?”

“yeah?”

“You fuck off and spy however you do. Come within ten feet of that interview room and I will kick your tailbone to the curb.”

“like to see you try, candy ass,” Red said, but his eye lights sparkled with vicious amusement. 

“We don’t have a lot of time, so give me the same statement you’re going to give them,” Antwan said firmly, ignoring Red. It was reassuring in a way to see his calm authority. It was hardly the first time Antwan had been in an interview room with a representative of the Ebott Police, and Edge could respect the ability to set aside his own personal concerns for efficiency. Later would be time for breakdowns, now they needed to get things done. His own emotions were easy enough to wall off, held behind his professionalism. “Don’t think too hard or embellish, okay? Cold details about those fuckers and that’s it. Leave out anything about the healing mumbo jumbo. In fact, leave out as much about Stretch as you can. It’s already gonna be a media circus with the Twitter darling so let’s not give them anything to hammer on.” 

Between the two of them, they settled on a statement, both of them ignoring Red’s ribald contributions. Precise facts with as little as possible left out.

Now they only needed to give it. 

* * *

It only took Edge a few minutes to change and meet Antwan down at the conference rooms. The dark stains on the front of his shirt were starker in the bright overhead lights, as was his exhaustion, but his expression was pure determination. 

“You don’t answer questions unless I okay it,” Antwan said, low. “We agreed to give a statement and that’s it.”

“Of course,” Edge said. With that, they opened the door, Antwan leading the way. 

A woman seated at the table looked up when they came in. She was the very picture of professionalism despite the late hour, in a tasteful gray pantsuit and her long hair pulled up in a neat bun. A visitor badge was clipped to her lapel. “Hello, gentlemen. I’m Bethany Andrews, Internal Affairs.”

“Good to meet you,” Antwan said curtly. “Antwan Young.”

Edge nodded to her. “Edge.”

“Wonderful. Now that we’ve introduced ourselves, let’s get started.” While Edge and Antwan took a seat, she pulled a small recording device out of her bag, setting on the table and pressing the record button before she began, “Now, Mister Edge—"

Edge interrupted her, “It’s just Edge, there is no mister. I don’t use honorifics.”

Her pleasant smile never wavered. “All right, then. Edge, I was given to believe that your spouse was with you during the altercation.”

That made him frown. “And I was given to believe we were here to give a statement, not to be questioned, Ms. Andrews.”

“You are,” she said mildly. “I was only going to express my concern that they're uninjured since they're not here with us.”

Edge glanced at Antwan who gave a slight nod. “He’s fine.”

She didn’t ask where he was, and Edge did not offer. “That’s good to hear. Now, if you’d like to give your statement?”

Edge did, slowly, the same as he’d given it to Antwan, with all the detail they’d agreed upon. He told how the Humans attacked them, how Jeff had been stabbed and how he had held the Humans until the police arrived. He repeated word for word what the police had said, emotionlessly, until he got to the point where Stretch shortcutted them away. 

“…and then we left,” Edge finished. He waited for her to ask how they left, how they escaped from a group of police offers. She didn’t, only wrote a few last notes on her pad before setting her pen aside and looking back up on him. 

“Thank you, Edge, that was very concise,” She folded her hands over her notepad. “First, I’d like to apologize to you for how the police handled this case.” 

“Thank you,”’ Edge said slowly. Even Antwan’s calm exterior cracked, briefly showing his surprise. 

“There are procedures in place for how incidents with Monsters are supposed to be handled,” she went on, crisply, “and from your statement and the cell phone footage that is appearing online, those procedures were not followed. I think you handled the situation as best you could, given the circumstances. The men that were incarcerated all had criminal records of violent behavior in the past. As for fleeing from the police, the argument can definitely be made that you were in fear of life-threatening bodily harm, particularly in your husband’s case. 

She sighed and reached out to turn off the recorder. “Gentleman, if I may be blunt and off the record? I don’t have a problem with Monsters. Most Humans don't and even ones who do usually have the sense to recognize that the technological advances cooperation provides is worth having you here. 

“I’m aware that the Ebott police force has, to put it in vulgar terms, a bug up their ass about your people,” she spread her hands with a grimace. “It’s an internal issue that I can assure you is being worked on. Frankly, losing the Embassy would be a devastating loss to the city for a number of reasons. We want you to stay and to be happy you did.”

Edge nodded, considering. Monetary reasons alone were enough for the City planners to want them here. Having the Embassy here was very profitable for them and most Monsters didn’t want to leave, anyway. They’d built homes here; uprooting them would be difficult and even traumatizing. “I believe I can state as an Embassy representative that our goals are mutual, Ms. Andrews.”

She smiled faintly. “Bethany is fine. The mayor is planning a press conference this afternoon and as far as I am aware, there are plans for Monster representatives to be there with him. Hopefully, that will put this situation behind us.”

“And the officers who were on the scene?” Antwan asked, coolly.

“Will be evaluated and either appropriately reprimanded or trained. I’ll keep you informed of any decisions. Thank you for meeting with me.” She packed away her notepad and recorder, then held out her hand. Antwan shook it. She seemed surprised when Edge did as well, surely aware that touching unacquainted Monsters was a bit of a social faux pas. But Edge was not afraid of Humans, certainly not this one, and he had the HP to back his confidence. 

Her hand was warm, fleshy, and as she held Edge’s skeletal one, her eyes flicked over Edge lingeringly. “A husband, was it?”

“Yes?” Edge confirmed, a bit puzzled. He took back his hand when she finally released it.

“Pity,” she murmured. 

Before Edge could process that she walked out. 

Edge stared after her. “Did she just—?”

“Yeah.” Antwan only looked tiredly amused. “Good thing Stretch wasn't here; he gives off a kind of hair-pulling cat fight vibe when it comes to you.” 

"He doesn’t have hair?” Edge said distractedly, only more confused. He was still trying to process that the Human might have been interested in him in a less than professional manner. He’d heard stories about Monsters and Humans, but never considered it. His interest in relationships began and ended with Stretch.

“Never mind,” Antwan chuckled. “Just be happy Stretch took you off the market. Saved you a lot of shitty headaches, I tell you what. Get you into that motorcycle outfit of yours and you’ve got a look that would have people dragging you to clubs."

This was information that Edge could have happily done without. 

Antwan slapped him on the back, “Don’t worry about it, pal. Look, can you do me a favor?”

“Yes,” Edge didn’t bother qualifying it. 

“Head back to the hospital. I’ve got motions to file and too much other shit to do before I can. If I do it, I know it’s been done right. But I’d feel better if you were there with them.” Antwan swallowed hard. That veneer of professionalism wavered and the vulnerability beneath it was something Edge knew all too well, learned and relearned every time Stretch was ill or hurt. “Just…look after him for me, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I’ll keep him safe.” It was a promise that Edge vowed would not be broken again.

Antwan grinned, his eyes crinkling. “Don’t need a blood oath, or anything, but I trust you, man. I got your car brought here, it’s in the lot. Keys should be in your office.”

“Thank you,” Edge caught Antwan’s arm, keeping him from turning away as he said again, unequivocally. “I’ll keep him safe.”

Another crack, his dark eyes showing a faint, desperate need and Antwan gave him a short nod. “Yeah. I get you.”

In short order, Edge was in his car, heading towards the hospital. Much as his own principles questioned leaving Antwan behind to work, his urge to see Stretch and Jeff outweighed it by a heavy margin. His own caged emotions were starting to hammer at the bars of his control and seeing Stretch would help. 

He did make a quick stop at a 24-hour supercenter for one necessary item. Subtly had never been his strong suit, anyway, and the time for being straightforward long past. 

Edge planned to get the answer he wanted by the end of the day, as soon as Jeff was conscious enough to give it.

* * *

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

_~~Andy~~ Jeff_

* * *

   
   
Since he’d met Stretch, hospital visits had become a thing again in Jeff’s life. A couple years ago he’d had an experience with them as well, when Julia finally told him what was going on. She’d been in hospice at that point and he’d spent a week there with her. Until it was over and he’d gone back to school because he didn’t know what else to do. Julia didn’t have much family, didn’t spend time with them, and seeing the way they went after her estate when she died made Jeff understand why.  
   
All he had left were pictures, but he hadn’t wanted more. What he really wanted was the impossible; he wanted her back, her laughter and her kindness. She’d loved cooking too, not like Edge, more haphazard and slapdash, usually tasty and sometimes requiring copious amounts of ketchup and Tabasco.  
   
He really missed her.  
   
But his fear that hospitals would remind him too much of her were proved wrong, to his relief. For starters, the Monster hospital was a lot nicer than the sterile hospice she’d spent her last days in. The rooms were airy and painted in soothing colors, with artwork on the walls and plants in corners. It was more like a hotel room than a hospital.  
   
Not that Stretch ever seemed to appreciate it. Every time Jeff had visited, his relief at seeing him was blatantly obvious and now that he was on the other side of the equation, Jeff could agree with him on one thing; hospitals were fucking boring.  
   
Not they were supposed to provide amusement along with healthcare, of course. But as exhausted as he was, Jeff couldn’t sleep and time was dribbling away so slowly he could practically hear the tick-tocks.

His body would’ve been happy for a rest. It was just a shame his brain wasn’t willing to get with the program.  
   
The sun was coming up, he could see it coming in through the curtains, which meant he’d slept a few hours at least. Stretch was curled up again in his armchair, this time with legs drawn up to his chest and his feet tucked into the cushion. It made Jeff wince to look at, that looked like a cramp waiting to happen. Maybe skeletons didn’t get cramps? He didn’t know much, but he knew his friends normally slept in a bed, so it was a good guess that Stretch would be waking with some regrets.  
   
The television was on with the volume down, the subtitles narrating along. They even had a smart tv, but Jeff didn’t think he’d ever wanted to catch up on his Netflix less.  
   
It was still very early. Jeff texted his roommates and Thomas, anyway, before they caught the whole debacle as it was brewing on the news. That was pretty much the end of his contact list. Every other friend he had was either sitting here or already knew where he was.  
   
So that left him with Netflix, his phone, and his unsettled thoughts that kept wandering back to what had happened outside the Golden City, to the sight of his own soul, hovering above Stretch’s hand. To everything.  
   
To the ache of absence in his gut reminding him that Antwan wasn’t here, and he shouldn’t feel that way, he shouldn’t. He was the one hurt, yeah, but one look at the news had him cringing. A hate crime against a Monster ally, one that involved Stretch who’d already been in the news a few times himself recently. Jeff only read a couple headlines before he didn’t want to see anymore. Antwan and Edge, hell, the whole Embassy was probably working feverishly to get this under control, and there was a lot at stake.  
   
But he couldn’t help that small, selfish part of him that wanted Antwan here with him. Stupid, it was stupid and selfish, and—  
   
A light knock at that door interrupted the downward spiral of his thoughts. He looked over, expecting to see a nurse and instead Edge walked in. He was in one of his power executive suits, but for the first time in Jeff’s memory, he honestly looked exhausted. There were shadows under his sockets and the crimson magic that glowed in his eye lights and joints seemed dim.

Jeff gave him a little wave and was both startled and amused when Edge raised a curt hand back.  
   
There were a couple plastic bags in his other hand and Edge set it down as he glanced over to where Stretch was sleeping. His expression, his entire posture, softened when he saw him; there was no other word for it. He walked on silent feet over to him and Jeff tried not to stare goopily as Edge straightened the blanket, smoothing it gently over him.  
   
At least he could enjoy someone else’s affection vicariously.

Stretch made a sleepy sound, nestling deeper into the folds like a particularly tall and lanky puppy and Jeff expected Edge to pull a chair up next to him, the better to keep hands on. Sure, he was the one who got hurt, but Edge was a smart guy. There was no way he hadn’t connected the dots like Jeff had, no chance at all that he hadn’t realized if Stretch hadn’t fallen back a pace, he would’ve been first in line to meet those fuckers, and that didn’t even include what Jeff had seen online about the police. There was a story he needed more information on and soon.  
   
But to his surprise, Edge took a seat on the other side of the bed before he asked in a low voice, “How are you feeling?”  
   
“Sore,” Jeff said honestly. “But it’s not that bad.” It was true; he’d really expected to be in a lot more pain. But the stitches itched more than they hurt and it seemed almost absurdly easy to forget why he was here to begin with.  
   
Edge nodded, unsurprised. “A residual effect of the healing. I’ll warn you now, it will wear off, so when the nurses offer you pain medication, accept it.”  
   
“Yeah, okay, I will.” This felt weird, even a little awkward, knowing what he knew about healing; namely that Stretch really hadn’t been supposed to do it. His memory of it all was blurry and dim, and he wasn’t trying very hard to pull any of it back into focus, but he did recall Edge telling Stretch to hurry. So he knew, too, and he hadn’t told Stretch to stop.  
   
“I brought you a gift,” Edge said abruptly. Jeff had to bite back a smile, because that was such an…an…Edge thing. Directly to the point, bypassing the unnecessary smalltalk. Whenever they were all together, he made for a great foil for Stretch, a perfect straight man, but on his own, Edge kept firmly on track.  
   
From one of the bags, Edge pulled out a tastefully wrapped package and handed it to him. It was about the size of a hardcover book and Jeff opened it curiously, wondering at what kind of reading material Edge would find suitable for hospital bed reading.  
   
Except it wasn’t a book. Jeff stared down at the box with uncertain dismay. The word Ipad stared back, and not even the cheapest model.  
   
“Edge,” Jeff started weakly, trying to come up with something, but what could he say? Thanks but no thanks for this astonishingly thoughtful and too damn expensive present? “An iPad is not a gift.”  
   
“Of course it is. I gave it to you,” Edge told him. The arrogance in it was probably so ingrained in him that Edge didn’t even hear it.  
   
Well, that was a tone that brooked no argument, but Jeff was going to give brooking a shot anyway. “I have a laptop.”  
   
Something about his obvious distaste made Jeff think Edge knew a little too damn much about his aging Dell. “Yes…and now you have an iPad.”  
   
Well, fuck. His first mistake had been taking it because there was no way in hell Edge would take it back now. Especially not with the smug way he was sitting there, and that was the expression of someone who knew they’d won. “Damn it, Edge—“  
   
“Here, let me help you,” Edge interrupted. He stood, reaching out to take the lid from the box. A quick press of a button and it started up, already connected to his Apple ID and there was another question that Jeff probably wasn’t going to get answered. "Now, I'd like you to open this document right here."  
   
How a gloved finger that covered bone was able to use a touchscreen was a mystery past Jeff’s skills, but it did. The document opened to a bunch of legalize, enough to make that aching twinge for Antwan flare. It dimmed back as astonishment overshadowed it, Jeff staring at the page.  
   
"This is an employment contract."  
   
"Excellent, you can read, we can skip that part of the interview." Edge tucked his hands into his pockets and said crisply, "I've been trying to be subtle, but it's become apparent to me that the direct approach would be best. I’d like you to come work for us at the Embassy.”  
   
“What would I even do?” Jeff asked, a little helplessly. The contract listed a lot of benefits but there was no sign of job duties or even a title.  
   
Edge sighed with pointed exasperation, and his eye lights were sharp, assessing. “Jeff, you have a degree in sociology and a compassionate soul. Do you see how that might be useful working for people who spent most of their lives trapped underground? We are not a perfect people, but we are loyal, and we want you with us.”  
   
“How do you know I have a compassionate soul,” Jeff blurted. The memory of his soul, that soft green, _compassion_ , was still very fresh. “Did Stretch tell you?”  
   
“Of course you do, it’s obvious—wait,” Edge narrowed his sockets, eye lights flaring. “Did Stretch look at your soul?”  
   
“Uhhh.” Well, fuck, that was a smooth move. Stretch had said it was kind of a big deal, maybe it was like, like cheating or something, but it hadn’t been like that, not at all. Meekly, Jeff offered, “I mean, I asked him to?”  
   
Edge waved him off. “Never mind that, but he shouldn’t have done it while you’re so weak. What I’m trying to get at is you would be a useful member of the team and—“  
   
He trailed off as Jeff signed it without another word.  
   
He hit send, watched as the icon swirled and popped up with a cheery, ‘sent!’. Prickles were stinging in his eyes but Jeff looked up at Edge anyway and told him firmly, “I don’t want a pity job. I want to help.”  
   
“You’ll get plenty of work, I assure you.” Edge seemed off-balance, oddly stiff and abrupt, and Jeff realized he expected to have to argue more with him. But working at the Embassy, with all the Monsters he’d met over the past year? It sounded like a dream that he didn’t want to wake from, a chance to pay back kindness that he’d never been able to with Julia.

He wanted this, so much.  
   
“Thank you,” Jeff told him, quietly.  
   
Edge relaxed visibly at that. “As an employee of the Embassy, you’re entitled to housing in New New Home. Here-“ he leaned in, reaching for the Ipad and Jeff couldn’t stop himself. He wrapped both arms around Edge’s slim form and hugged him.  
   
He regretted it instantly. Edge stiffened immediately, standing stock-still in his arms. Fuck, Edge didn’t like being touched unexpectedly by anyone but Stretch, he knew that, he _knew_ it.  
   
Before he could pull back or apologize, an awkward hand patted him gently on the back. “You’re welcome.”  
   
“are you two done?” Came sleepily from the other side of the bed. “because if you need more bonding time or a chance to sing kumbaya or something, i can go.”  
   
Edge drew back and retorted, “If you’re going somewhere else, you may want to take advantage of the clothes I bought you.”  
   
The blanket was cast aside as Stretch scrambled to his feet, already reaching for the bags. “babe, in a world of mediocrity, you are a shining star.”  
   
“Only because you are easily pleased.”  
   
The bag was quickly tossed aside as Stretch pulled out the clothes and laid them on the foot of the bed, making pleased sounds about the sweatshirt and pants, and Jeff didn’t miss that a few of those things were way too short for Stretch. Edge had obviously brought him clothes, too, and Jeff swallowed hard before managing, “You could’ve gone home to change and get some better sleep.”  
   
“uh huh,” Stretch agreed absently, chuckling delightedly as he held up a T-shirt with ‘She-Ra, Princess of Power’ emblazoned on it. “excellent. or i can stay here and use the ensuite shower.”  
   
“Are you planning on camping here until they cut me loose?” And Jeff was blinking hard because he already knew the answer.  
   
“yep.”  
   
“Of course.”  
   
One more question, the one he’d resisted asking because he wasn’t needy, he understood, he did, but, “Where is Antwan?”  
   
That softening fell over Edge again, but Jeff had never seen it directed his way before. “Finishing his work at the Embassy. He’s going as quickly as he can, but there’s really no one who knows it better than him. He was here when they brought you in and waited until he knew you were safe.”  
   
Jeff nodded, swallowing hard.  
   
“He asked me to stay with you, but to be honest, that was my plan to begin with,” Edge told him with a gentleness Jeff had heard before, months ago when they’d spoken about his parents. “He’ll be here as soon as he can.”  
   
“sure he will!” Stretch gathered up an armload of clothes and headed towards the bathroom. “keep an eye on the injured party here, i can’t even stand my own smell right now and that’s saying something.”  
   
“Where would I go?”  
   
“I will,” Edge said firmly. The door closed behind Stretch and Edge settled back into his chair, pulling out his phone. He was quickly absorbed, probably working, but his eye lights slid Jeff’s way anytime he moved, trying to get comfortable with the slowly growing ache in his side.

The television wasn’t offering any new enticement and he since he couldn’t rightly turn away his new gift, at least he could play with it. Jeff went to the App Store, scowling when he saw the sum loaded to his account and silently promised that he would be paying them all back very soon, for everything. His excitement over a new job was dampened a little by Antwan’s absence, but it was okay. Everything would be fine. He downloaded a game, losing himself in the mindless shifting of gemstones and triumphant lights.

And waited.

* * *

Tbc


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for another POV! This time we are looking from Red’s POV. Yeah, good luck with that.
> 
> Lookout for the kustard in this one!

* * *

_Red_

 

No one could’ve dragged it out of him, not even with pliers, but Red was exhausted and that was a fact.

Didn’t matter, not a fucking jot or tittle. Not like it was the first time he’d gone without sleep. Once this shit was finished, he’d go down but until then? He’d learned years ago how to use his magic to shore him up when he was flagging. Both he and the idiot twins had magic in spades, and if those two never bothered to figure out how to use it right, well, Red wasn’t interested in demonstrating. He had a handle on this.

After he returned the Blueberry’s car, keys left in the ignition for him to bitch about later, Red stopped back at his place for a coupla things. He made a point of walking, even if he was bitchin’ tired. Shortcuts ate up magic and he needed all he could spare. He already had another car lined up to borrow, that was next on his list.

Turned out that choosing not to teleport was a mistake, but what could you do? His hindsight had always needed glasses.

“so where do you think you’re off to?”

Red stopped, briefly closing his sockets.  
Sans hadn’t asked permission before coming into his house for a couple months now, not since their little spat. 

Spat, yeah, that was a good name for it. More like someone forcing a choice that he hadn’t wanted to make, but Sans…well, Sans was a fucking asshole.

The real problem was that Red had a thing for assholes, hell, he’d mostly raised one. Assholes were handy dandy, so long as they were facing the other way.

Red didn’t need any fucking liabilities, thanks. It was enough of a pain in the ass to look after Edge’s and no matter what Sans said, trying to play it off like it wasn’t like that, didn’t change anything, did it.

That smirking asshole was his own personal albatross and now Red got to lug him around. The bitch of it was, that sometimes? He didn’t even mind.

Today was not one of those fucking times.

He turned, taking in Sans’s lazy sprawl on his sofa, for all the world like he was on the Titanic just waiting to strip off so someone could draw his nudey shot. But see, Red knew better than to believe that shit. Those pale eye lights didn’t miss much, Sans was a shit and an asshole, but he was on the ball.

Where was he off to? Please, like they both didn’t know where he was headed and what he had planned. Sans might not that the details but he knew, same way he knew that Red’s soul was cobwebbed with cracks, LV or no. He _saw_ , like Stretch did. Like Red did. 

They always knew too much when they wanted to; only difference was that lately, Stretch didn’t go looking very often. That was honestly okay by Red, kept him out of trouble.

But Sans knew, of course he fucking knew. Only question was whether or not he was gonna let Red play it off. “aw, you worryin’ about me, sweets? i’m heading in to work is all.”

“you can’t kill them.”

Welp, that was a pretty clear no. Red sighed and made a mental note to delete all of his living room recordings. They were locked down with triple redundancies, but no such thing as too careful, now was there.

“can’t?” Red said, lightly. “thought we were pretty clear last time about my cans and can’ts.”

That was the deal they’d settled on with pinkie swears and spitting in palms, the works. They could fuck exclusively, no outside players, and Sans didn’t have to keep it a secret anymore so long as he didn’t hire a sky writer or some shit. But that was it, there was none of that telling each other what to do bullshit, no fuzzy bunnies and matching outfits.

Well. Not more than they already matched, anyway.

Sans didn’t look particularly moved by that, and yeah, none of ‘em liked to break a promise. Didn’t mean they wouldn’t squeeze around it if they could find some wiggle room. “i get the urge, but you gotta let this one play out. last time, i get it. he was threatening a lotta people, that game needed called. these assholes though? it was just a few drunk guys pulling stupid shit.”

“stupid shit?” Red said, low. “that what we’re callin’ attempted murder these days?” 

He looked hard at Sans, at that face, similar and yet not to his own. “it wasn’t just a coupla drunk guys, those fuckers aren't even from ebott. they came in from out of town special for this, all ready for dinner and a show. they were lookin’ for a couple of monsters to fuck over.”

Sans didn’t so much as flinch and yeah, that was how Red ended up in his pants to begin with. Stupid fucker, almost suicidal tendencies, really, ‘cause he didn’t get involved until he did, and when Sans was in, you better believe it was for 110%. 

“yeah, and you need to stop planning some of your own stupid shit right now,” Sans said, cool as a drink of water. “they need to go to court. it’s shitty, but we need this publicity. i don’t want to wait for someone to get dusted before they actually make attacking monsters a real hate crime, with real consequences.”

“they would have killed stretch. they almost killed andy.” 

That was the flat fucking truth of it, didn’t even get into the rest of the trouble it caused. He’d seen the cell phone footage, all of it. None of ‘em had a clear shot of Stretch healing Andy and the ones that came dangerously close were taken care of before they even hit YouTube. That had been the important part, making sure no one with an agenda and any mad scientist tendencies in ‘em got their hands on it…or on Stretch.

They’d all had their fill of that kind of shit, thanks, and the buffet was closed.

“would have. almost. didn’t. you can’t fix this that way. not yet.”

And wasn’t it chuckilicious that Sans was right? Because he was, Red knew he was. Antwan has been busting his balls for months on proposals for the criminality on hate crimes against Monsters, being that it was a fuckton more dangerous than a lil’ human on human action. Humans bled, Monsters died, and that was a fact. This was almost a fucked up blessing in disguise, really, but—

_—that wobbly cell phone footage. The kid laying there, bleeding on the ground, the shock on his face, on Antwan’s face, and his bro, the cold fury in his sockets and he had it covered, he did, might have killed those fuckers right there if Stretch hadn't said something and he had LV, would always have LV, he protected what was his, shouldn’t have to but he did, and so did Red…_

Sans only sat there like he was waiting on some tea and fucking scones. No pity on that face, no sympathy, only maybe a shred of understanding, but Red got the picture in crystal-clear HD. Sans wasn’t going to let him do anything; he’d put in the effort this time to stop him, and that…would not end well.

It took Red a sec to sort through his internal sarcasm files but in the end, he settled on grudging honesty. “i can’t just sit here.”

Neither of them had the capacity to not smile, but wasn’t nothing stopping their smirks from widening and Sansy’s did. “well, see, i knew that, dollface. why do you think i’m here?”

The way he licked his teeth made a lotta dirty promises and wet dreams seem like a possible raunchy reality.

Wellie, well well. Sans was a shit and an asshole, but he wasn’t half-bad as a distraction, too.

Beneath that bulky hoodie were sleek bones, not quite as stocky as his own, Sans wasn’t a battle-ready model. He was more delicate, more fragile. Almost pretty.

Fucking liabilities. 

And as Red pushed Sans down on the sofa, most of his thoughts were on those bones and that mouth doing a damn fine Hoover impression. But there was a dark corner set aside, in the same place that Stretch kept his math brain and Sans kept his tech one. Red’s quirk was planning, yeah, and that never turned off.

All right, so he couldn’t kill them. But what no one could see wasn’t gonna be a problem. A little pain tended to build character and Red was in the mood for a little karmic retribution.

-finis-


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the POV we’ve all been waiting for!

 

* * *

_Antwan_

Asgore’s driver didn’t say a word when Antwan started rummaging through the mini-fridge. It was mostly filled with bottles of tea and fruit juice, but in the back there was a narrow bottle of a decent whiskey. 

Seemed like even Asgore had a tough day from time to time.   
   
He poured out a finger’s worth and tossed it back. Poured another and this time he only held the glass, absently studying the facets cut into it. The backseat was absurdly roomy for one human, and the seats were cushiony and comfortable. Normally, Antwan would have appreciated it. Today, not so much.  
   
Fuck, he was tired.   
   
He hadn’t really been thinking about a ride until a few minutes before he was ready to leave the Embassy. He’d been halfway downstairs when he belatedly remembered his car was still in Edge’s driveway and his willingness to ride around with Red at the wheel was low in his current mood. He’d been about to call an Uber when Asgore suggested his own driver and he’d vetoed any protests pretty damn quick.   
   
“Your diplomatic immunity is less assured than my own,” Asgore had told him with uncommon sternness. “I’d prefer you avoid public transport for the moment.”   
   
It was frustratingly sensible. Stretch was going to be pissed, though, if everyone was put on lockdown, and he was probably going to end up with another restriction on leaving for a while. He sure as fuck didn’t envy Edge having to drop that information. Stretch was pretty laid back but if he had a hair laid just right across his tailbone, he could hold a hell of a grudge. Jeff wasn’t going to be a problem because transport starting working on getting him a car the second he’d hit the ‘agree’ button on his employment contract.  
   
Jeff.   
   
Antwan took another sip of his drink, savoring the clean burn. He hadn’t been able to talk to him at all; Jeff was in and out of sleeping and his phone wasn’t connected to the Monster servers so Antwan hadn’t dared so much as texting him directly. All the reassuring texts he’d gotten from Stretch and Edge only reminded him that he wasn’t there, sitting by him where he most wanted to be.   
   
Not his fault but assigning blame didn’t change facts. It wasn’t Jeff’s fault he’d gotten hurt either and—  
   
Hurt. No, fuck that, he’d gotten stabbed, he’d nearly been fucking murdered and that was a memory that wouldn’t be leaving soon. Antwan expected to see it in his nightmares; Jeff’s pale face, drained of color, with only wet darkness on his lips, garish in the harsh streetlights. The same dark shade that was spreading across his shirt, staining his hands, and all Antwan could do was kneel next to him, uselessly.   
   
He would have died if Stretch hadn’t helped him. There was no way to know that for sure, but Antwan was certain, and much as he was grateful, he also didn’t want to think about it. Not about losing Jeff.  
   
A few nightmares were a small price to pay and it wasn’t like he had any major trauma in his background the way the others did. The youngest of five kids, the only one who’d followed his mom’s path as a lawyer.  
   
His parents had been fine when he came out to them. They had four other kids giving them grandbabies, they weren’t worried about one from him.   
   
Once he’d finished Law school, he’d spent a few years as an immigration attorney, but when the Monsters came aboveground, he hadn’t hesitated. He’d been on a plane that night, abandoning everything to offer his services because he knew one damn thing for sure; if Humans couldn’t even give rights to their own kind, there was no way in hell they were going to be fair with Monsters.   
   
The job came with long hours, hard work, and a shit-ton of satisfaction. But it was exhausting in times like these, when he was struggling to ensure that whatever plea deal the prosecutors were going to offer was going to be enough for what those fuckers did. It was a hate crime, no other word for it, and the mayor was backing the Embassy.   
   
But he knew from experience that prosecutors tended to side with the police, and he was making damn sure it wouldn’t be that easy. He’d filed motions against the perps, the cops, the city, sent out their teams to work the angle of criminal and civil charges because if the other two fuckers tried to wrangle a deal where they were innocent bystanders, he was going to ensure if there was one fragment of evidence they knew what their friend was planning that they were charged as accomplices in the commission of a felony.   
   
No one was getting out clean and if this needed to drag on for months, Antwan was fine with that. But for right now?   
   
He needed to touch Jeff, see with his own eyes that he was all right.  
   
Funny thing; he hadn’t been looking for a relationship. Sex, yeah, and he’d thought Jeff was cute as hell from the start. From the moment they’d met, Antwan wondered about those pouty lips and after he’d gotten the charges cleared on him, he’d gone for a different kind of investigation.  
   
Their first date almost put him off; Jeff had been so eager to go out with him it almost hinted at desperation, and his first thought was that he'd made a bad fucking mistake. He’d pretty much resigned himself to having to change his phone number from the get-go, but they’d actually had a good time. Jeff hadn't asked for too much, no hinting that he wanted more and those plush lips had been even better than Antwan hoped. In a variety of ways.  
   
Somehow, they’d gone from a one night stand to two, to four, and being with Jeff was not something he’d ever thought he wanted, but it somehow turned into something he needed.   
   
Antwan took another sip of whiskey, remembering when they’d been out once for dinner. Jeff had been almost squirming in his seat, obviously excited about something and Antwan had let him squirm, silently enjoying how damn adorable he was. It wasn’t until dessert, shared because Jeff would never order one on his own and was frustratingly insistent about split checks, that Jeff finally pulled a wrapped gift out of his bag. It was obviously a book, Antwan knew that before he pulled loose the first piece of tape.   
   
But he’d been speechless at what was hidden beneath the paper. An excellent copy of “The Godfather”, first edition, complete with the original dust cover. It was one that he and Stretch had been idly searching for; most were in poor condition these days. It wasn’t specifically worth much, except that he’d wanted it. He couldn’t even remember mentioning that he’d wanted it, maybe absently, not really thinking about it.   
   
“Someone brought in an estate lot of books and that was in it,” Jeff told him, almost nervously, like somehow he’d done something wrong by finding him a thoughtful gift.   
   
Thanking him seemed too easy and instead, he’d pulled Jeff in for a kiss, heedless of the other diners and the feeling of Jeff’s smile beneath his lips was one he would treasure.   
   
Not the feel of Jeff’s bloody hands in his own, squeezing weakly as his life drained away on the sidewalk. Not that.  
   
Yeah, what he wanted was Jeff within reach whenever possible, and he was just about done waiting for Jeff to get over his idea that somehow his actual worth was tied to a paycheck. Edge’s plan to make him a job offer was pretty good, but it was taking too damn long. Truth be told, Antwan wished he could make Jeff understand that he really didn’t give a shit about it. Money wasn’t a problem for him and that it was for Jeff was understandable but frustrating because Antwan wasn’t sure how to get around it, and he knew he’d have to. There was no question that Jeff was going to argue he needed to pay his way if he moved in. 

How was it Antwan had no trouble with eloquence in a court room but one adorable, stubborn guy with soft eyes and a gentle smile made him tongue tied?  
   
Jeff was the first guy he’d ever wanted to take home to meet his family and it still frustrated him that it was stupid money that stopped him last Christmas. Well, didn’t matter. Next year, he was going.  
   
Edge had been nudging him to make this jump for ages, warning him about waiting too long, and last night was pretty fucking persuasive arguments of its own that life was short.  
   
The driver let him out at the security doors that led to the Monster wing of the hospital and Antwan had to force himself not to jog inside. Impatience was eating at him as much as his exhaustion and he needed to see Jeff first, then he could take a nap.  
   
In the lounge by the nurse’s station, he was surprised to see Edge and Stretch sitting. Well, sitting wasn’t exactly right; Stretch was asleep, sprawled across Edge’s lap with his legs dangling over one arm and his head resting against the other. Antwan wasn’t too sure how good a pillow Edge’s bony arm was but Stretch was giving it a good try. Edge was looking down at him and his normal fiercely stoic expression was faintly softer. Probably someone who didn’t know him well wouldn’t notice, but Antwan did.   
   
He’d been around for a while now, had seen Edge go from a distant professional to a close friend. He’d watched Edge’s relationship with Stretch from the beginning, saw every hiccough, every step back, every twist and turn that got them here.  
   
Yeah, he knew Edge pretty well. And he couldn’t help wondering how the hell he managed to deal with this. Stretch was in and out of the hospital all the time, and that didn’t even count his issues with depression. His health wasn’t the best even compared to Sans and Red.  
   
Antwan wondered vaguely if height had anything to do with it. Seemed like the shorties didn’t get ill as often.  
   
Or maybe he was talking out of his ass, like he knew shit about the effects of low HP past how dangerous it made for them to be around humans. For all he knew, it was their sheer asshole quota that kept Red and Sans healthier; it was as good a metric as any.  
   
Edge opened up about personal shit either bluntly candid or not all, but Antwan had seen him when Stretch was sick or hurt. Now he understood that quiet strain better than he ever wanted.  
   
The realization that they were sitting in a hallway rather than with Jeff took too long to filter through his exhaustion but once it did, rising fear pushed aside any weariness.   
   
Antwan walked up to them quickly and demanded, “What’re you doing out here?”  
   
He didn’t mean for it to sound as accusing as it did. Probably. But Edge only raised a nonexistent eyebrow at him and said, “The nurse asked us to leave while she changes his bandages. I would have argued, but Rus doesn’t like it when I fight with the staff.”  
   
Rus. Antwan wasn’t so tired that he didn’t twig that. Edge didn’t usually call Stretch ‘Rus’ unless he was stressed or upset. 

The Rus in question stirred sleepily, shifting a little and sighing as he snuggled in closer to Edge. Working with Monsters had taught Antwan that humans had souls, and he swore the sudden longing he felt resonated there. He wanted Jeff in his arms, in his home, in his life, and he wanted it right now.  
   
Maybe it did resonate. Monsters were sensitive to souls, and Edge tilted his head towards the door and said softly, “Go see him.”  
   
Didn’t have to tell him twice.  
   
He still opened the door hesitantly, seeing a nurse at the side of the bed. She was just pulling the blankets back up and Antwan let his eyes slide away from the stained bandages on her cart to Jeff.  
   
He was still too pale, his light hair falling lankly over his forehead. Surrounded with IV’s and machines, but when he caught sight of Antwan, he smiled sleepily. 

Antwan couldn’t say when Jeff had made the change from cute to beautiful in his eyes. Even more so, now, with that smile. Proof that he’d survived.  
   
“Hey.” It was all he could manage past the sudden tightness in his throat.  
   
“Hiiiii!!" Jeff slurred in reply and Antwan blinked in surprise.  
   
"I just gave him his evening medicine," the nurse said, amused. “Take whatever he says with grain of salt.”  
   
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Antwan held open the door for her to wheel the cart out and then sat by the bed. One of Jeff’s hands was sitting on the blanket and Antwan took it carefully in his own, squeezing gently. ”Hey, baby.”  
   
“Hmmmm,” Jeff sighed happily and Antwan could only smile helplessly. Those wide pupils and glazed eyes were a pretty good sign that the conversation was going to be a short one. “Love it when you call me that.” 

Before Antwan could say anything, or maybe just repeat it, Jeff made a good effort at sitting up in excitement. “Edge offered me a job!”  
   
“Did he?” Antwan said. Like it was totally a surprise to him, yeah, and he hadn’t known about that plan for weeks now.  
   
Sitting up seemed to require more dexterity than Jeff could manage at the moment. He sank back down into the pillows, blinking owlishly at his body’s betrayal. Antwan’s response must’ve made it through the fog of drugs because he brightened and nodded, his head wobbling like it was on ball bearings. “He said I can move to New New Home and have my own place and everything!"  
   
Antwan rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. Jeff had small hands and slender fingers, pale against his own. "I was kind of hoping you'd move in with me."  
   
Of all the replies he’d expected, Jeff laughing and shaking his head was not one of them. “Noooo, I can't do that."  
   
It left him at a loss, and yeah, okay, Jeff was out of it, probably didn’t mean it. Antwan wet his suddenly dry lips and asked, "Why not?"  
   
“I don’t want to move in just because you feel guilty I got hurt,” Jeff explained. Each word was rounded and drowsy, and still managed to cut. “I know you’re not as into this as I am. S’okay, love you anyway. Can’t help it.”  
   
"What? Jeff, that isn't true, I--" He trailed off when it became apparent that Jeff had lost his battle against the medication with his last words, leaving him asleep and oblivious.  
   
Antwan sat and watched him sleep, coldness settling into his chest, and all he could think was it was the fucking worst when Edge was right. 

-finis-


End file.
